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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29255004">Make Me Your Queen</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/stxrdrifter/pseuds/stxrdrifter'>stxrdrifter</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Persona 5, Persona Series</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops &amp; Cafés, Detective Niijima Makoto, Eight years after Royal, F/F, IT'S A COFFEESHOP AU BY TECHNICALITY ALONE, Implied Sexual Content, Kinda, Mystery, Post-Canon, Royal Spoilers, Takes place in 2024, technically</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:09:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,763</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29255004</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/stxrdrifter/pseuds/stxrdrifter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Two kids are missing. Detective Niijima Makoto is working to find them, but she cannot do it alone. Also, there's a mysterious barista that's been flirting with her...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kurusu Akira/Niijima Makoto (Former), Niijima Makoto/Okumura Haru</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Zinnia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thanks to Captain Crash for editing this gay mess</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>
    <em>SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 3RD, 2024 - KICHIJOJI JAZZ CAFE</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto sat idly in the </span>
  <span>café</span>
  <span>, her laptop in front of her on a blank document, and the cursor flashing teasingly back at her. The time in the corner of the screen had just passed 9pm, and she was on her fourth cup of coffee. Her cheek had practically glued itself to her hand, which would without a doubt leave red streaks across her aching wrist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she needed to write </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She groaned and reached for her coffee. Soft jazz played over crappy speakers that hadn’t been replaced since Makoto had been in high school. The first sip of this fourth mug was bitter, jolting her just a little bit more awake to stare at her screen and try to think of something, </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything </span>
  </em>
  <span>to write. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her report was due in thirty-six hours. She had to explain what she saw on her patrol, but it just didn’t make sense. It had been seven years since the last time she entered the metaverse, so this couldn’t possibly have something to do with it. How could someone </span>
  <em>
    <span>disappear </span>
  </em>
  <span>right in front of her?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The worst part of it all were those two teenagers, the two that had been reported missing the previous night, the two she’d been tasked with searching for. She hadn’t been wearing a body cam, and her partner was elsewhere providing audio backup while he sifted through security feeds and she just happened to be in a blindspot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tough time?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto looked up at the kind face of the barista. She had blue eyes and long dark brown hair, pulled into a neat ponytail with her bangs free and wispy, framing her soft face. Her cheeks had a little bit of blush, and she was wearing a matte brown lipstick and thin round glasses. If she was going for ‘autumn dark academia’, she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>absolutely</span>
  </em>
  <span> nailing it. Makoto felt her heart skip a beat. The barista’s voice was really </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>sweet, and painfully familiar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m just… stuck.” Makoto closed her laptop instinctively. As a detective, she couldn’t have people looking at her screen, even if it was empty and blank and had no information at all whatsoever on it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What on?” The girl sat down across from Makoto. “Maybe I can help?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto sighed. “I uh… I don’t think I can tell you. I’m a detective, and the thing I’m stuck on is my report, which is confidential until it’s been revealed to the press.” Something about this girl made her want to spill all her worldly secrets, but she refrained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl giggled, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck, </span>
  </em>
  <span>was her laugh sweet. She sounded exactly the way that the French Vanillas Makoto used to drink during her time in Canada had tasted. “I won’t tell, promise. I want to help you. You’re one of our most loyal customers, afterall.” She offered a coy smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been coming here ever since I became a cop,” Makoto said with a chuckle. “I guess you could call me loyal. But, I don’t think I’ve seen you here before. Did you just start?” She cocked her head to the side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The barista frowned. “Something like that. The manager mentioned you when I started the other night. He said you usually come in around this time.” She giggled. “I heard after this place was bought out, a lot of the regulars abandoned it. I’m surprised anyone stayed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto sipped her coffee, and shrugged. “The staff didn’t change, did they? Neither did the prices. Why would I go? This is the best coffee in the city, aside from...” She trailed off. “Well, I doubt you know the place. It uh… it burned down a few years ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(She remembered how heartbroken Sojiro had been when it happened. A pure stroke of bad luck; a thunderstorm rolled over Shibuya and lightning hit the roof of the small and cozy Leblanc Cafe. Akira had been staying in the attic at the time. She remembers the terrified look on his face, the burns across his skin, the way he clung to Futaba for dear life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a place she’d made a lot of memories; it was where she learned what kind of person she was, where she shared countless laughs and tears… where she shared her first kiss, where she shared plenty of first times with </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>… The place was dear to her. To all of them, the Former Phantom Thieves. They’d held a small memorial for the joint, and Ryuji wore a tie. The only ones that couldn’t make it were Haru and Yusuke, who had been out of the country.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto shook herself out of her thoughts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry to hear about that,” the barista said with a frown, “You must be talking about Leblanc, right? I remember seeing that on the news.” She looked away. “It was truly tragic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something about her look concerned Makoto, but she couldn’t place what it was. Before she could analyze it too much, the girl turned back to her and smiled, and the look was gone. “So! Back to this report of yours. Let me help you!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto shot upright. “Right! Yes, uh, ok… you promise you won’t tell anyone?” Makoto cursed her dumb heart for letting her even consider telling a civilian about this sort of thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not a peep!” She mimicked zipping her mouth shut. Makoto felt her face warm at the barista’s smile and her absolutely adorable giggle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto sighed. “Alright. I’ll tell you what happened, but I don’t think you’ll even believe this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>=====</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Niijima, do you copy? Over.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I copy, Lieutenant, over.” Makoto turned the corner, shielding her eyes from the setting sun. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“All I have on these cameras is nothing, but there’s a few blindspots I need you to check, over.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Makoto rolled her eyes. She knew this was a runaway case, and they’d probably be back within the week. The two kids—Mira and Daichi Kamada—had overbearing parents, an excessive school load, and Daichi was working a part-time job on top of having to maintain his honour student status, all to meet the expectations of their parents.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(She’d even said that to their parents. “I think they just ran away. It’s possible the two of them became so stressed under the pressure of expectation, that they just needed to get away from it all.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The parents didn’t take that comment well, and had lashed out at her. Thanks to Suou, though, she managed to get out without too many bruises to her psyche.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was a feeling all too familiar to her, though. Back in high school she was expected to be the top of her class, the perfect student council president, the perfect student. Even in college, she pushed herself to excel until it broke her and she’d had to go home for a month. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was during that month she gave up on becoming the youngest police commissioner, and decided to just become a police commissioner. But of course, that dream didn’t last either.)</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Where am I going? Over.” Makoto spoke clearly into the radio. A job was a job; even if she thought it was a runaway, she needed to take it seriously. She’d been wrong before.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“The back alleys in this block aren’t on any of the cameras. They could be hiding in here. Briefing says that some of the residents saw the kids in the area before they were reported missing, it’s possible they came here to hide. Over.” And Lieutenant Suou Tatsuya, her partner on this case, shared the sentiment. But he didn’t make it to Lieutenant for just sticking to his gut. He was thorough, critical, and made sure no corners were cut. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She wouldn’t lie, she admired him immensely. He’d been training her since she made it onto the force. “I still think this is just a runaway, over.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The line was quiet for a while as Makoto found the alley entrance she was looking for. “I’ve seen your records, you know.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Makoto froze.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You were the perfect student, right? Top of your class every exam, perfect grades, graduated with honours. It’s only fair you relate to what these kids are going through.” Suou’s voice paused. “Look, it doesn’t matter how you feel about this. We have to check all the boxes and make sure we treat this as serious as it could be.</span>
  </em>
  <span> ‘Rule out the impossible, and what you have left is the truth’</span>
  <em>
    <span>, right?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Makoto chuckled. “Are you quoting Phoenix Wright at me?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Suou laughed loudly. “I </span>
  </em>
  <span>knew </span>
  <em>
    <span>you played that game! My son’s obsessed with it, so I’ve decided to mess around with it in my free time.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Makoto returned to walking through the alley. “A friend of mine introduced me to it when my sister became a prosecutor, and my girlfriend watches the anime.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh?” Suou sounded genuinely intrigued. He’d relaxed into the Suou Tatsuya that Makoto had come to know much more in her time under his wing. She smiled. “How is she by the way?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yuuki? She’s… good…” Makoto trailed off as she rounded a corner. Something caught her eye. “I see movement. Block off the other exit to this alley complex, over!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“On it! Over!” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Makoto raced after whatever it was. Her shoes skidded along the dirty concrete as she rounded the sharp corners until she stepped out into a more open area in the center of the city block. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There they were. The two kids.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I am Detective Niijima, I need you to—” She began her prepared speech, but something happened before she could finish. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There was a bright flash and then they were completely gone, seemingly vanished into thin air. She looked around the area for anything; mirrors, cameras, people, but there was nothing she could see. They were gone.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Suou appeared a few moments later. He stepped out into the clearing from the opposite alleyway wing of Makoto and looked at her in disbelief. “What happened? Where did they go?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Makoto threw her hands up. “They disappeared!” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>=====</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re kidding!” The barista girl interjected. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto laughed. “I swear, I’m not. These kids just vanished into thin air, like they were some kind of </span>
  <em>
    <span>glitch!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The barista stared at Makoto, not in disbelief, but in fascination. Her eyes were shining, and her chin rested on her hands. She’d interrupted Makoto halfway through to change out of her uniform and back into her regular clothes (a comfortable looking sweatshirt and jeans, and her previously ponytailed hair was now let down) and she still looked just as cute as before. “I don’t even know what to say!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto dropped her head in her hands. “How do I even put that in a report?!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl touched her gloved finger to her chin in thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She really looks familiar,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Makoto thought, frustrated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not just write exactly what you told me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto reeled, nearly falling out of her seat. “Wh-what? Are you kidding?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And of course, the girl laughed her sweet and intoxicating laugh. “Well, perhaps there’s something hidden there. If your partner didn’t see them running, and it wasn’t a trick of the light, maybe it’s worth looking into? Perhaps there’s some hidden clue in there.” Makoto had to remind herself that she had a girlfriend she was going home to tonight and chastised her illoyal thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god, you’re totally right.” Makoto groaned. “There goes five hours of my life I’m not getting back. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl giggled before stopping and looking at her watch. “Oh, the final train for Shibuya is departing soon. Do you want me to walk you to the station?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto considered taking the offer. “Nah, I’m meeting my girlfriend here in about fifteen minutes before we head to hers. Thanks though.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl looked disappointed, but shook her head free of the expression. “Well, alright then. Goodnight, Niijima-chan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto gave a lazy wave, and the girl turned to walk away, but just as Makoto opened her laptop again she heard the clicking of the girl’s shoes approaching her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I totally forgot! Would it be okay if I gave you my number? I-in case you need another perspective on things again!” The girl laughed, though nervously this time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto raised her eyebrow. Sure, she liked this girl, but she wasn’t really one to collect numbers from girls she’d just met, </span>
  <em>
    <span>especially </span>
  </em>
  <span>since she was in a relationship. Still, something about this girl piqued her interest in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. She wanted to know more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pulled her phone out of her pocket and unlocked it, navigating to the contacts menu and hitting the ‘New Contact’ button on her screen. “Why not? No promises I’ll be in touch though. I’m kind of the third </span>
  <em>
    <span>Detective Prince.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl laughed as she took Makoto’s phone and began inputting her information. “It’s been a while since I heard that title. I hope you live up to it.” She handed the phone back. Makoto could have sworn she saw a different expression, something melancholic, as she took the phone back. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was probably nothing, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she thought as she checked the contact. “Lucy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s me!” Lucy gave a smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, ‘Lucy with the rose emoji’, it was a pleasure to meet you,” Makoto said with a smile. Lucy gave her a wave and walked out of the shop. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Lucy, huh? Why is that so familiar…? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto sat back in her chair and opened her laptop once again, beginning to write exactly what happened: she went into the alley at approximately 5:15 pm, arrived in a small opening ten minutes later, and saw two children vanish, all in proper report format. She finished shortly, falling back into her chair with a sigh as the bell above the door rang. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She peered over to see her girlfriend, Yuuki Yokoyama, entering the establishment. She looked around before her gaze landed on Makoto, and she smiled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mako! Hey!” Yuuki called out as she walked over, sitting across from the girl. “How was work?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t even get me started.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Makoto paid her tab and the two left the establishment. Yuuki called a cab and soon enough, they were back at Yuuki’s apartment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hardly a second after Makoto had taken her shoes off, Yuuki was all over her. Makoto was pushed against the wall, rough kisses dancing on her lips, cheeks, and neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto smiled into the first of many kisses. “I take it you missed me,” she mumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuuki returned a devilish smile. “I missed you so much, babe; I almost forgot what you looked like.” Her voice was low and filled with lust. The two of them were only really able to see each other once a week due to their heavily conflicting schedules, but they’d made it work decently up to this point. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto could count the seconds before Yuuki had her shirt and pants off; it was becoming less and less, the more weekends she was with her girlfriend. Yuuki was Makoto’s first girlfriend, making Makoto heavily inexperienced with sapphic relationships. Yuuki insisted that it was fine, that she was used to taking the lead, being the “top” (whatever that meant, Makoto didn’t know). As time went on, though, that was starting to become less and less clear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Yuuki’s fingers traced a new path—because Yuuki didn’t like things to get stale—Makoto’s mind wandered on its usual route. Each time Yuuki and her had sex, she couldn’t help but feel like something was missing. Even when her breath hitched, when the noises she made seemed to entice Yuuki more, when her hands tightened on whatever she was holding onto, it felt like something was lacking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t help that she was always sore afterwards. That part made her desires to initiate reach zero after the first few hookups. Makoto was fine whenever Yuuki led, but she never felt any real drive to lead herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Might as well</span>
  </em>
  <span>, her thoughts said every single time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And eventually, they were in bed. Eventually, Makoto laid on her back, with Yuuki to her right. Eventually, her chest heaved up and down as she let her heart rate slow itself to normal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And eventually, Makoto sat up. “I’m gonna have a shower.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mind if I join you?” She glanced back at Yuuki. Her eyes were bright, seemingly hopeful as opposed to the incessant lust from minutes prior. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d rather shower alone, thanks. A lot happened today, I need to work it out.” Makoto felt her heart sink when Yuuki’s expression shifted, her eyebrows dipped, her eyes lidded just a little, and her mouth curled into something more somber. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, then. Don’t take too long, I need to shower too,” she muttered. Makoto could feel the disappointment, but she didn’t know why. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, she walked through the cold apartment and into Yuuki’s bathroom to wash off the sweat and overstimulation, and to finally have a second to think. About Lucy, about Yuuki, about the Kamada children, about everything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A small guilt began to vibrate in her chest when Lucy crossed her mind. Her brown hair, her soft blue eyes, all of it looked adorable and painfully familiar, but she couldn’t place exactly why. Considering </span>
  <em>
    <span>how</span>
  </em>
  <span> familiar it was, it annoyed her more that she couldn’t place </span>
  <em>
    <span>why </span>
  </em>
  <span>it was familiar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It annoyed her even more when her heart started racing at the thought of seeing her again. She pressed down the feelings, forcing them to subside. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I have a girlfriend, I can’t. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Reality zoned back in, and Makoto let out a long sigh, turning off the water and stepping out of the shower. She dried her hair off and stepped back out of the bathroom with a robe wrapped around her. Yuuki was waiting on the couch, turned away and watching her phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto planted a chaste kiss on her crown. “Your turn.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuuki turned around and pulled her into a deeper kiss. “I’ll be quick, I want to snuggle with you now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto watched Yuuki walk into the bathroom, swaying her hips in the way she did to keep the attention on her. Makoto pressed her fingers on her lips, feeling for the kiss Yuuki had left her with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It felt empty. She didn’t like it.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Asphodel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Night fell. Makoto and Yuuki snuggled on the couch and watched a movie that Makoto didn’t entirely pay attention to. Her thoughts fixated back on her feelings regarding her kiss with Yuuki just a few hours prior. She couldn’t get that empty feeling out of her mind; the complete lack of emotional response she felt towards her girlfriend of three months. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuuki held tighter to her. Yuuki, with her short blue hair that reminded her of Ryuji in a way. Yuuki, with her calloused fingers from playing guitar in basement bars and spinning turntables in dance clubs. Yuuki, with her rough voice, perfect for the punk rock genre she was pushing in Akihabara and Kichijoji clubs. Concerts Makoto had never been invited to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The scene on their small TV reflected a rock concert. She cursed fate for forcing her thoughts. “Hey, Yuuki?” Makoto’s voice was soft, a little shaky from the nerves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuuki looked up at her girlfriend, a flirty look in her eyes. “Yes, darling?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto’s heart tensed. She didn’t like this look. Still, Makoto shook the distress from her mind and spoke her heart. “How come you’ve never invited me to any of your shows?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuuki looked away. Her expression shifted, becoming more serious. “It just didn’t seem like your vibe. You know, with you being a cop and all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto chuckled, but it felt forced. “Who says I wouldn’t like punk rock?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuuki’s stare stayed aimed just above the TV. “I mean, you spend all your time at that Jazz Club, and your playlists are significantly more poppy than anything else, so…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto knew Yuuki was dancing around the real reason: Makoto was a cop, and Yuuki’s genre hated the police. “It’s because I’m police, isn’t it? You’re worried I’d be offended by your music.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! No, that’s…” Yuuki sighed. “Yeah. My music isn’t exactly nice to the police, but you’re a good cop!” Yuuki finally turned her eyes to Makoto’s, the TV having long been forgotten. “When we first met, you told me about how you despised the way the police were before you joined, but you also talked about how hard you and your colleagues were working to fix that injustice, so I… I don’t hate you, I just hate the bad cops.” Yuuki looked down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto rubbed her girlfriend’s back. “It’s okay. I’m not mad that you don’t invite me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Also,” Yuuki began. “You’re just always busy. You’d never be able to make it to my shows.” She looked away again, back to the TV, but her eyes weren’t focused. Makoto knew the comment wasn’t just about the music, but about everything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto’s and Yuuki’s schedules hardly met up in the middle. The only times they were free to see each other were a few nights during the week (though rarer when Yuuki was gigging and Makoto was working harder cases) and weekends. They had agreed after they started dating that they’d sleep over on Saturday nights, when neither of them worked the next day. They hardly even texted each other, their conversation history empty beyond the routine </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Your place or mine this weekend?’</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘I’m free to get drinks tonight. You open?’</span>
  </em>
  <span> followed by single word responses from the other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t working. Makoto knew that. She’d just been scared to accept it until now, when her lack of heart-aching affection decided to grab her by the ears and force her to look at her situation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto looked at the clock to find it was already 10:30. It was too late to have a conversation like this. She glanced at Yuuki's face, seeing her somber and distraught expression. Her eyes watched the TV, but they were distant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She only hoped they felt the same way. It would make things a lot easier. “Hey, Yuuki?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm?” Yuuki turned to look up at Makoto. The look in her eyes didn’t go away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you… wanna get coffee tomorrow? There’s something I want to talk about, but I think this late at night might not be a good idea.” Makoto watched Yuuki’s expression shift into something she couldn’t read.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure. I’ve got stuff on my mind as well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two finished their movie, but Makoto paid even less attention than before. When they crawled into bed, Yuuki laid on Makoto’s chest. As Makoto stared at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to take her, she heard Yuuki mumble something unconsciously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One last time, okay, Mako?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She only hoped that it meant what she thought it did.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bell above the cafe door rang as the two entered. The walk there had been quiet, neither of them speaking too much. Makoto tried to reach for Yuuki’s hand, but almost immediately Yuuki seemed to pull away. They took a seat in a booth near the front and made their orders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuuki was the first to speak, “So, uh… what did you want to talk about?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto could feel anxiety welling up in her lungs. She didn’t want to do this. She didn’t want to hurt Yuuki, but it needed to happen, but she just couldn’t do it.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Breathe,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Just breathe.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Time seemed to slow as she took slow, deep breaths, and calmed herself back down. She looked to Yuuki, who seemed unfazed by Makoto’s panic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto started. “I uh… I wanted to ask you—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re breaking up with me, aren’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto reeled for a moment. Yuuki looked disappointed, but not necessarily sad. Her eyes were fixated on her crossed hands on the table, and she sat back leisurely in her chair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-yeah, I think that’s what’s best,” Makoto answered hesitantly. “I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuuki chuckled, leaving Makoto surprised. “Honestly, I’m surprised you got to it first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, we’re both really busy. It’s hard to see each other often, and…” Yuuki looked away with an embarrassed grin. “I’m a little bit clingy, so I don’t think I could see this lasting in the long term.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto scoffed lightheartedly. “Just a little bit? Last night we were hardly in the door before you—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuuki cut her off, waving her hands in Makoto’s face desperately trying to shush her. Makoto only laughed. “I’m grateful, though,” Makoto added when the energy died back down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto pondered for the next words to say. “Well, without you, I wouldn’t have had the experience I did. I wouldn’t know how it feels to love a woman, right?” Makoto giggled at the memory of Yuuki flirting her ass off at the bar the first time they met. “I had a sneaking suspicion I liked girls, but I didn’t really accept it until I met you, so… thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuuki smiled. “You know, I feel like this is the most I’ve actually seen you emote since we started dating.” Before Makoto could respond, Yuuki’s eyes widened. “Wait! I meant like, we’re both so busy, you know? Ugh, sorry. I totally messed that one up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto gave her an empathetic smile. “Don’t worry, I understand. I’m just glad we’re on the same wavelength.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both sipped their coffee. Makoto looked for something else to say, to continue the conversation at least a little bit, since it would be awkward to just end it here, but Yuuki cut off her thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, Mako? I never knew I was your first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “You didn’t? I thought I told you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope, unless I was super drunk.” Yuuki rested her head in her hand. “I should have realized though, you’re absolutely not good in bed.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto choked on her drink. “Hey! Neither were you!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At least I made you c—” Makoto cut Yuuki off with an armed glare. Yuuki looked to the rest of the cafe, seeing the other customers that could possibly hear of their conversations. She sighed. “You know, you could go for some… </span>
  <em>
    <span>me time</span>
  </em>
  <span>, y’know? Have you never even—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No I haven’t, moving on!” Makoto insisted, but Yuuki just laughed, and dammit, she couldn’t help but laugh too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their final date ended with a hug, and the unfortunate conclusion that staying friends wasn’t the best call, at least for now. Yuuki wanted to leave it open to fate, but Makoto knew it wasn’t meant to be. It didn’t upset her though. Makoto had accepted that this was the end, but she knew she had her whole life ahead of her for love and heartbreak. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And of course, as fate would have it, after Yuuki had left another familiar face sat across from her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t expect to see you here again so soon, Niijima-chan!” Makoto looked up to see the achingly familiar face of Lucy, wearing a casual outfit, a hoodie and jeans, rather than the uniform Makoto had expected to see.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“H-hey, Lucy-san.” Makoto’s heart quickened. “Are you just coming in to work?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucy shook her head. “No, I’m just here for some coffee. What brings you here?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto frowned. “I just broke up with my girlfriend.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucy frowned in turn. “I’m… I’m sorry to hear that. If you want, you can talk to me about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was mutual,” Makoto explained, “We both realized it just wasn’t going to work out. I worked all day, she was performing shows all night, we hardly got to see each other. It only made sense we would break apart eventually.” Makoto paused for a moment, fiddling with her hands. “It still sucks, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can imagine. Losing a partner can be rather upsetting, even if the feeling is mutual.” Lucy smiled softly, and Makoto felt her face warm, “But you’re still alive, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“R-right.” Makoto sipped from her coffee. “Something’s been bugging me,” she admitted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucy didn’t even miss a beat. “Oh?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto sighed. “I feel like I know you from somewhere but I just can’t place it. I feel absolutely terrible if I don’t remember you, but like…” She looked away. “I just don’t know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucy giggled, and Makoto gave her a confused glare. “Maybe you do, Niijima-chan, maybe you don’t!” She leaned forwards, a maliciously playful grin adorning her face, and whispered, “You’ll just have to find out for yourself, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something in Makoto’s brain itched, ached, felt so close to the precipice that was the answer, but she was blind and stumbling around in the dark, narrowly missing each time she thought about it. “Why can’t you just tell me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucy’s smile (her very cute smile) didn’t fade. “It’s fun! I want to see if you come to the right conclusion. You’re the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Third Detective Prince</span>
  </em>
  <span>, after all.” She cocked her head to the side. “You should be able to figure this one out!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto leaned forwards, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “I can’t just snoop through your life! I hardly know who you are! I’d be abusing my power!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucy adjusted her glasses. “You might not have to. I’m sure you’ll figure it out!” She winked, and left Makoto feeling more confused than ever. Makoto didn’t even get a chance to think up a response before Lucy checked her watch and added, “Sorry, I have to go. It was nice to see you again! Text me, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-yeah, I will,” Makoto said hesitantly. Before she knew it, Lucy was out the door and Makoto was watching her long hair wave in the wind. Her heart fluttered in her chest as she watched the girl walk away. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She couldn’t take her mind off of Lucy for the rest of the evening. She made it home around 4pm, having spent a fair amount of time wandering around Kichijoji trying to catch her thoughts before she caught the busy train home. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What did Lucy mean when she said I might not have to abuse my power? </span>
  </em>
  <span>She thought to herself. Her laptop was open in front of her, and she had a small recording device in her hand to log her thoughts. The apartment she lived in was quiet, and quite tranquil, but the silence today became oppressive. She turned the TV on in hopes to drown out the silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“And now in world news, legal battles with Cupid over their recent acquisitions being obtained through blackmail continue as…” </span>
  </em>
  <span>The TV blared, but Makoto mostly ignored it. She’d heard a bit about Cupid, a multi-billion dollar company that dealt in grocery, technology, and food among other things. She couldn’t care less about it, but the background noise helped her think straight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that she could think much at all tonight. Her head was still clouded with thoughts about Lucy, about the Kamada kids, about so many things that she just gave up and went to bed. The next day, her head wasn’t any clearer as she rested her head on her desk hoping something of use would come to mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A knock on her office door frame pulled her out of her desire to be mauled to death. “Hello? Detective Niijima? Are you doing alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She slowly pulled her head up to see. “Lieutenant Suou, hey, yeah, no. I’m just… hazy as hell. Can’t think straight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This case stumping you?” He sat in the chair in front of her desk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto’s chest rose and fell dramatically. “Lots of things. This case is confusing as hell though. I don’t even understand how those kids disappeared!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had forensics check the area out, but they couldn’t find anything. Do you want to go take a look yourself?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto grumbled at her confusion with the whole mess until an idea hit her. “I need to make a call. You remember Oracle, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The hacker that took down Medjed all those years ago? I do.” His eyes opened wider, clearly interested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it okay if I call her in? I want to have her come to the scene and check out the area. She might know if there’s anything forensics missed.” It was crazy, but it just might work. “In the meantime, can you head to the Kamadas and ask them where their kids might have gone? If they have any relatives in the city? I know last time they insisted there wasn’t, but I feel like there’s something they’re hiding from us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suou put a finger to his chin. “That sounds like it’s possible. I’ll brief the captain, and then we can get going. Call your friend and have her meet here at the station, I want to brief her myself, see if she’s trustworthy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Suou, I promise you she can be trusted. After all,” Makoto’s voice hushed and a tricky smile crossed her face. “She’s a phantom thief like me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suou sighed, a subtle chuckle interlaced within. “Fine. I still wanna meet her.” Suou stood up and went out the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moment he was gone, Makoto quickly pulled out her phone and called Futaba, desperately hoping that the hacker had grown out of her old habit of never picking up and only texting. </span>
</p><p><span>“Hello?”</span> <span>Futaba’s familiar voice responded, slightly raspy. </span></p><p>
  <span>“Hey! Futaba! It’s Mak—”</span>
</p><p><span>“I can read the caller display, Queen. What do you want this early in the morning?”</span> <span>She sounded like she’d just woken up, and Makoto could hear sheets rustling in the background, followed by a soft, ‘who’s calling?’ and a ‘Makoto’.</span></p><p>
  <span>Makoto giggled. “It’s 9am, Futaba. Don’t you have a job?” </span>
</p><p><span>“Yeah, and I don’t work until noon. What did you need?”</span> <span>Her bitter and grumpy tone faded out into something between that and her usual chipper one. </span></p><p>
  <span>“I need you to come down to the station. There’s a favour I need of you for a case.” Makoto crossed her fingers and hoped Futaba would be willing to work for the police, considering her side hustle as a grey hat hacker. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a short pause, and Makoto could have sworn she heard the gears in Futaba’s brain working. “How interesting is the case?” Her chipper and playful tone returned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Two kids disappeared right in front of me and forensics can’t figure out how. There were no footprints, DNA, or anything.” She smiled, knowing she had her friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Metaverse, maybe?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think so, but that’s what we need you to find out. You up for the task?” Makoto could practically hear Futaba smirking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Muehehehe, of course. I’ll be there in thirty minutes, just gotta eat the breakfast that Sumi made for me. I’d hate to let it go to waste!” Makoto heard the further rustling of sheets followed by the soft noise of feet on carpet. “See you soon!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Futaba hung up before Makoto could say goodbye, but she was too excited to see Futaba again to be disappointed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been a while since Makoto had seen any of the Phantom Thieves. She’d been so busy with college, and then with becoming a detective, that she hardly ever got to speak to anyone. She used to have intermittent phone calls with Haru, Ann, and Akira, she’d head out to Yongen to see Futaba (and sometimes Sumire) before she moved out, and Ryuji and Yusuke both went to the same university as her, but those all soon faded into the background as her police career took off. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she missed them. Her heart was racing at the excitement of getting to see one of her friends again. It had been almost four years since she had the opportunity to see any of them in person, a guilt that weighed on her constantly, but so were the difficulties of adulthood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was going to hug Futaba so tightly when she arrived. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Until literally twenty seconds ago I did not realize that: Makoto Yuki. Makoto + Yuuki. im. wow</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Snowdrops</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I suppose I should post this, huh?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The moment Futaba arrived, Makoto practically tackled her with a bear hug. Futaba’s screams—“What the fuck, Queen?! Get off me!”—and vicious swears and growls were muffled by Makoto’s chest and shoulder. Eventually (and reluctantly), Makoto did let go.</p><p>“... Never do that again” Futaba huffed, looking comically disgruntled.</p><p>Makoto smiled and laughed. “I’ve missed you! It’s been so long!” </p><p>Futaba scowled. “You don’t exactly call…”</p><p>“I’ve been busy!” She looked at Futaba with pleading eyes, hoping they’d melt away Futaba’s scowl. Thankfully, the pleading glare was effective.</p><p>Futaba’s scowl faded. “Fine! I missed you too,” she mumbled.</p><p>After a brief catch-up, Makoto took Futaba upstairs to meet Suou and have her briefed on the situation.</p><p>“This is the girl? She looks like she’s sixteen,” Suou muttered. Futaba didn’t even look up from her laptop.</p><p>“You <em> probably </em>shouldn’t say that when she’s got a computer in front of her, Lieutenant,” Makoto warned, hopefully to some avail. </p><p>Futaba snickered menacingly. “First of all, I’m twenty-two. Second of all: Tatsuya Suou, aged 42. Went to high school at Seven Sisters from 1996 to 1999 before working and going to university and then finally becoming a police officer in 2010. You’re currently in a relationship with Jun Kurosu and would like to be married, but due to outdated Japanese laws, you can’t actually wed—”</p><p>“We got married in Canada three years ago—” Suou interjected, but was quickly silenced.</p><p>“No, you didn’t. You <em> wanted </em>to, but the documents wouldn’t be valid overseas, so the plan fell through.” Futaba looked up at Suou. “If it’s any consolation, the Diet is looking to legalize same-sex marriage, but they’re getting pushback. Give it two or three years.”</p><p>Suou looked utterly bewildered, and Makoto simply smirked at him. “Is she good enough?”</p><p>He groaned. “Yeah, she’s good. Alright, let’s get the briefing started.”</p><p>Futaba kept her laptop open, taking down notes and doing quick searches as Suou filled her in on the case. “You’re here to do a check for something forensics couldn’t find. You up to the task?”</p><p>Futaba sat back in her chair. “I can run a search on the cameras in the area, so long as I can connect to the local network; plus, I can search for any other devices that give off a wifi or bluetooth signal.”</p><p>Suou tsked. “Our team already did a check, and found nothing—”</p><p>“Was the footage corrupted?” Futaba interrupted. Suou raised an eyebrow. “Let’s assume these kids have access to decent technology, such as a smartphone from the last decade or so. There was a leak that came out recently that allows for anyone with a smartphone to temporarily encrypt any modern CCTV camera’s footage. I can decrypt it.”</p><p>“Sounds good. I’ll let you two get on it,” Suou confirmed. Makoto stood up and prepared to take Futaba down to the garage. “One more thing.”</p><p>Makoto turned around just as Suou tossed something her way, fumbling as she tried to catch it. It was a temporary police badge. “For Futaba?”</p><p>“Correct. Don’t abuse it, kid.” He glared at Futaba, but she just smiled innocently back at him.</p><p>“Got it, chief.”</p><p> </p><p>“Your boss seems fun,” Futaba chirped as she and Makoto made their way down to the garage. </p><p>“He’s not <em> technically </em>my boss, but yes. He is fun,” Makoto admitted. The elevator ride was quiet; it was difficult to make conversation after multiple years of not having seen or spoken to each other. Futaba rocked back and forth on her heels, making various noises with her mouth to fill the silence.</p><p>The elevator dinged and they exited, making their way over to a cruiser that Makoto could take to the crime scene. Futaba tossed her hefty looking bag into the backseat and dropped herself in the front while Makoto found her keys and started the engine, and in seconds they were pulled out of the parking garage and on the roads.</p><p>“So why don’t you talk to anyone anymore? Did something happen between you and Akira?” Futaba had decided apparently that she would be hitting every hard point today it seemed.</p><p>Makoto sighed. “I just got busy, and things with Akira ended awkwardly, and I’ve been… scared to talk to him, I guess. Everyone else, I didn’t want to make them take sides, so I just removed myself, I guess.” It had been two years since she and Akira had split, just around the time she became an actual detective, but somehow things were still messy.</p><p>Akira split with her after coming out as bi to the former Phantom Thieves, suspiciously close timing to when Goro Akechi resurfaced from his self-induced witness protection. Makoto didn’t want to think it, but a small shred of her soul held tight to the belief that he knew about Akechi and dumped her for him.</p><p>“It was really messy, but if it’s any consolation, both Ryuji and Ann smacked the shit out of him.” Futaba giggled, probably remembering the event. “He wanted to get in touch, but thought it would be best to let you have your space, if that makes you feel better. A six year relationship ending is messy, afterall.”</p><p>Makoto (thankfully in stopped traffic) closed her eyes and breathed for a moment, before responding. “Thank you for that, Futaba. It means a lot.”</p><p>Futaba sat back in her seat as traffic resumed. “Anytime. Dramatic subject left turn, but I guess this means you haven’t heard from Haru then, right?”</p><p>Makoto’s eyes widened. “Haru? No, why?”</p><p>“She went to America for some business conference or something with Takakura, but nobody’s heard from her since. None of the group knows why, either. Not even Akira.” Futaba’s hands crossed and uncrossed in her lap as she spoke. “The only reason we know she’s even alive is because she’s suing her ex fiance.”</p><p>Makoto nearly slammed on the breaks. “She’s suing Sugimura? Why?”</p><p>Futaba took a breath. “You heard of Cupid?” Makoto shook her head. “It’s a big company over in the States, and it’s been doing some major acquisitions, including Okumura Foods, and Haru’s lawyers are suing him for blackmailing Takakura into selling the company.”</p><p>“That’s absolutely bullshit!” Makoto screamed. </p><p>“I know. I hope she’s okay though, people have been calling her some nasty stuff online.” Futaba sighed. Makoto hoped the same. Haru had always been good at pretending she didn’t need help, but Makoto wished she’d call or something, to let everyone know she was okay, or even perhaps ask for help. </p><p> </p><p>And soon enough, the two arrived at the scene with a tense air hanging over their heads. Makoto led Futaba to the place where she’d seen the kids disappear, and Futaba sat on the dry ground and began to unpack her bag.</p><p>“What’s all that gear?” Makoto inquired as Futaba pulled out equipment that looked like it belonged in a 1992 Sci-Fi movie.</p><p>“This is what we are going to use to figure out what happened,” Futaba explained as she continued hooking up weird-looking devices to each other. “After all that Jail stuff started, I decided to put together a contraption that would be able to detect metaverse stuff.”</p><p>“Metaverse stuff?”</p><p>Futaba’s eyebrows furrowed. “Everytime we entered the Metaverse, there was this… trace, sort of, where we entered. The only way out of the Metaverse is the way you came in, right?” Makoto nodded. “Well, that’s gotta tie back to reality somehow. This equipment scans for those entrances. Think of it like… a radar for the supernatural, I guess?” </p><p>Makoto sat across from Futaba. “Somehow that all actually makes sense.” </p><p>Before either of them could say anything more, Futaba’s equipment started whirring and beeping like crazy. “Does it normally do that?”</p><p>“No! This means there’s something big nearby!” Futaba had to yell over the equipment. After a few seconds, she shut it all back off.</p><p>“Futaba, do you think the Metaverse is playing into this?” Makoto asked nervously. </p><p>Futaba’s eyes were hazy, unfocused. “I don’t know.”</p><p>The two took a moment to breathe, not sure how to comprehend the realization that, <em> holy shit </em>, the Metaverse still existed. It had been seven years since they fought Yaldabaoth and Maruki. How was this all still happening?</p><p>Makoto pulled herself out of her trance. “Okay, well, let’s make sure these kids are actually involved in this. Can you get the camera footage?”</p><p>“Give me a couple seconds.” Futaba began typing furiously at her keyboard, first grabbing the footage from the cameras and then attempting to decrypt it. “Something’s weird about this footage…”</p><p>“What’s wrong?”</p><p>Futaba hummed. “It’s got the wrong encryption signature for the hack that leaked. It’s almost like the footage was mangled by something else. I can still figure out how to put it back together, but it might take some time.”</p><p>Makoto scouted around the area while Futaba worked. She tapped the ground with her feet and noticed that any footprints she left seemed to disappear just moments later. She walked through the alleys to check as well, only to find the same thing. No matter what she did, the ground always reverted back to its original state. </p><p>She walked back into the center area just as Futaba was stretching back. “It’s done.”</p><p>Makoto stepped around to crouch behind Futaba, looking at her screen. It showed the two kids coming into the area, and vanishing, just like Makoto had said. Something interesting happened afterwards: they reappeared a few hours later and left the area, and the ground where they entered seemed to shift a little bit.</p><p>Makoto let out a sigh of relief. “Okay, I thought they might have been trapped in there or something. That at least means they’re staying somewhere that isn’t home to do all this.”</p><p>“Maybe a hideout?” Futaba offered.</p><p>“I doubt it. Perhaps…” She pondered for a moment. “They could be doing this in exchange for something.”</p><p>“Shelter?”</p><p>“It’s possible. If they’re changing hearts, they might be working for someone.”</p><p>Makoto stood up, Futaba with her, and they went back to the police cruiser and off to the station.</p><p>Halfway back to the station, Suou called. Futaba answered Makoto’s phone and put him on speaker. “Yo.”</p><p>“Alright, so I found something. Those kids, they’ve got family. They have a cousin that lives in the city.” Makoto could tell from his tone that this wasn’t going to be good news. </p><p>“Alright, who is she?” Futaba chirped.</p><p>“Haru Okumura, A.K.A. the hardest person in the world to get a hold of right now.”</p><p><em> Of course </em> , Makoto thought. She felt herself melt into her chair. <em> Of course, that’s tied to this somehow. </em></p><p>“I swung by the Okumura Estate afterwards and talked to the servants, but they said they hadn’t seen her in a few months, so I don’t think she’s involved.”</p><p>Somehow, Makoto thought that wouldn’t be the case. </p><p> </p><p>The rest of the day went by and no new leads emerged. Makoto was developing a welt on her forehead from thumping her head on her desk, hoping it would kickstart her brain somehow. Her shift ended with no kickstarting, and she swung by the Kichijoji Jazz Cafe, as she always did.</p><p>“Stumped again, Niijima-san?” Lucy cooed. Makoto swung her head up to look at the girl, dressed in her sleek white button down, slacks, tie, and waistcoat, and Makoto’s heart skipped a beat. </p><p>“Unfortunately.” She dropped her head on the table again. She was pretty sure the iron of the table left an actual dent in her skull. “This case is a complete nightmare.”</p><p>“I’m about to take my break, do you want to tell me about it?” Lucy’s sweet voice could seriously steal all of Makoto’s secrets, and Makoto would only feel the guilt of being attracted to someone so much so soon after her breakup. </p><p>“Sure,” she mumbled into the table, cursing her stupid gay heart.</p><p>Lucy walked into the back and came out a few moments later, her hair down and a hoodie over her shoulders. Even in her lazy attire, she still looked good as hell. Makoto wanted to scream.</p><p>“Alright, tell me what’s going on.”</p><p>Makoto relayed her day to the girl. She definitely should not have been doing this right now, but she needed a second opinion on everything and this was just becoming crazier and crazier. Makoto realized that she <em> must </em>have sounded absolutely bonkers with the way she was explaining the Metaverse to this girl, but she seemed to follow along pretty decently, which concerned her.</p><p>Lucy hummed. “I wish I could offer you anything, but I’m just as stumped as you.”</p><p>“I have no clue what to do!” Makoto grumbled into the table she had once again dropped her face onto.</p><p>Lucy giggled her sweet and intoxicating laugh. “I think this is enough thinking about it. Let’s clear your head and when you come back to it, you’ll have a better view. Does that work?”</p><p>Makoto nodded, head still firmly planted on the table. “What do you have in mind?”</p><p>“A walk through Kichijoji perhaps? This area is always beautiful at night time, and I’ve still got half an hour left on my break.” Makoto sat up to see Lucy smiling sweetly at her and <em> fuck </em>, she could just not say no.</p><p>“Why not? I could use some fresh air.” She stood up and swung her coat over her shoulders. “Let me pay my tab first—”</p><p>“Don’t worry about it, Niijima-chan,” Lucy said, “I’ve got it. You’ve been so pleasant to talk to, so I paid off your tab.”</p><p>Makoto gawked at the girl. “My tab is over ¥10000! How? <em> Why?” </em> </p><p>“I paid off your tab for <em> today </em>, Niijima-chan.” Lucy laughed. Makoto felt her face heat up. </p><p>Everything about Lucy was seeming more and more familiar as their interactions went on, to the point that Makoto couldn’t just ignore it anymore. It had become a regular lingering thought in the back of her mind every time she saw her, a presence she’d grown uncomfortably accustomed to.</p><p>The two stepped outside of the shop and walked around in the cold February weather. Makoto stuffed her hands in her leather jacket pockets, and Lucy had on red leather gloves. A light snow fell from the sky, and Makoto felt her cheeks and nose turning pink under the chill—though that could have just as easily been a blush, since Lucy looked adorable with rosy cheeks. </p><p>“The snow is so pretty,” Lucy whispered as they walked. </p><p>“It is, especially here against all the lights.” Makoto looked around at the area and how the white snow was tinted various shades of pink, blue, yellow, and purple under the neon glow of store and club signage. “It’s gotta be my favourite time of year.”</p><p>“I prefer the spring, since you can’t plant flowers in the winter, but this is still beautiful.” Makoto looked back to Lucy and saw her gazing around in awe. Their path took them to the small shrine in the area.</p><p>“You garden?” Makoto asked as they sat on a bench in the shrine. Lucy was staring at the stone fox lightly covered in snow, but Makoto’s eyes were still on her companion. Lucy’s ears had turned a little bit pink as well under the cold.</p><p>“I do! It’s one of my favourite things,” Lucy answered as she turned back to face Makoto. Her blue eyes were tinted a light shade of green under the yellow hue of the streetlight above, and Makoto could not stop staring.</p><p>She eventually managed to pull herself out of her trance to continue the conversation. “I had a friend who used to garden, but I haven’t spoken to her in a while.” Makoto frowned and turned away at the recollection.</p><p>“I’m sorry to hear that,” Lucy whispered solemnly. She placed a gloved hand on Makoto’s knee, nearly startling Makoto into cardiac arrest. Her heart rate did shoot up enough that she might need an ambulance, though. “You said you became a detective, right? I’m sure you’ve just been busy, and she’s been busy too, and she misses you as much as you seem to miss her.”</p><p>Makoto smiled. Her heart was beating a mile a minute, but somehow in this moment she managed to feel completely calm despite her shaky hands. “Thank you, Lucy.”</p><p>“Anytime, Mako-chan.” Lucy suddenly jolted upright, pulling her hand away from Makoto’s leg. “S-sorry! I hope that’s okay! That I’m using your first name that is…” She pressed her fingers together nervously, which was the most adorable thing Makoto had ever seen her do and she just wanted to pull her into a tight hug and never let go.</p><p>“It’s fine!” </p><p>(She thought back to the sound of Haru’s voice every time she referred to Makoto by that nickname. She reminisced on the times they’d spend nights together studying, but instead of studying they just gossipped over how long it was going to take before Ann confessed her feelings for Shiho. The times they’d team up in Mementos, knocking shadows flat with reality-bending attacks. </p><p>She missed Haru a lot.)</p><p>“The nickname is just nostalgic is all,” Makoto added.</p><p>Lucy giggled. “Nostalgic? I guess your friend called you that one too, huh? Don’t mind if I steal it, do you?”</p><p>Makoto smiled. “No, no, go right ahead. Honestly, something about you feels like it’s right for you to call me that.” She looked at Lucy and saw her, eyes hazy and cheeks red. “Is everything okay?”</p><p>Lucy snapped up straight. “Y-yeah, sorry.” She rubbed her knee. “Just cold, you know?” </p><p>“We should probably head back then,” Makoto said. </p><p>“Agreed.”</p><p>The warm air of the cafe fogged Lucy’s glasses immediately upon entry and Makoto couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh my god, your glasses!” </p><p>Makoto keeled over, and Lucy began to giggle as well while she wiped off her glasses and escorted a slowly dying Makoto back to her table. “I’m never going to get used to that one.”</p><p>Makoto sat down and her laughing fit subsided. She looked back up at a glasses-less Lucy and something in her clicked. “Oh my god!”</p><p>Lucy looked up at her, rather confused. “Mako-chan? Everything okay?”</p><p>“I know who you’ve been reminding me of!” Makoto exclaimed. The cafe had a few customers, some of which turned their heads to listen in on Makoto. </p><p>Lucy smiled. “May I ask who?” </p><p>“Haru Okumura! You remind me of her! The friend I mentioned earlier?” Makoto clapped in victorious pride as she finally got that thought off the tip of her mind’s tongue. Various people were staring at their table. Lucy, meanwhile, looked incredibly distraught. “Lucy? Are you okay?”</p><p>She shook her head. “Yeah, everything’s just fine. Look, I’ve gotta go, ok? My break is ending soon.”</p><p>Without a second glance, Lucy stood from her seat and rushed into the back. Makoto ducked her head back into her work, trying to not think about what she might have done to make Lucy uncomfortable. She left fifteen minutes later.</p><p><em> What was that about? </em> Makoto asked herself.</p><p>She hoped an answer would be easy.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Narcissus</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The following week for Makoto was an unending stream of wasted energy. She was completely stumped with the Kamada case, and didn’t want to pick anything else up while she was trying to figure out how to even get a hold of Haru. She’d messaged Futaba asking if she could arrange for the Phantom Thieves to meet up again to figure out if they knew anything, but she just gave the exact answer Makoto was expecting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“None of them know anything, Makoto. We haven’t been able to contact her in a year, and her number’s disconnected,” followed by “I’ll give everyone else your number and add you back to the group chat. If anyone finds anything out, they’ll let you know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then she was added to a group text that she promptly muted, since it was surprisingly active for a group of 25 year olds. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She ended up actually taking a case while she was struggling to clear her mind, a simple B&amp;E. She solved it in less than a day and the report was written up in fifteen minutes and she was back to suffering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Until something occurred to her. She felt immensely guilty thinking about it, but she could easily figure out what Haru’s current ROE looks like, or just look into what acquisitions Okumura Foods (or </span>
  <em>
    <span>Black Star Coffee</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Haru’s coffee subsidiary) has made recently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, kiddo. Anything new?” Makoto looked up from the dark wood of her desk to see Suou standing in her office doorway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I had a thought, but I hate it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suou sat in the chair in front of her. “Go on. What’s the idea?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto sighed and leaned back in her chair. “We can find out Haru’s ROE, or we can look into Okumura Foods acquisitions to see the list of places Haru could be working. Then we can go to those places to find out if they know where Haru’s been so we can bring her in for questioning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suou crossed his legs. “And why is this a bad idea? This seems like a great idea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto peered down at her hands. “Haru was a friend of mine, and she hasn’t been in contact for a while. I don’t know if she’s avoiding us for a reason, if something happened, or if she needs help, but I don’t want to pry!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suou rubbed his chin. “Think of it this way. What if she’s in danger?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s currently in a major legal case against Fuyuhiko Sugimura’s company. I doubt she’s in any physical danger.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what if she is? She hasn’t been in court.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto cocked her head to the side. “How do you know that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suou grinned. “I looked into her. I didn’t think to check those, though.” He sighed. “You’re right, she’s not in danger, but we don’t have any other leads regarding those kids, and we need something concrete. If we run this lead cold, then we run it cold, but I’m not leaving it until I know it’s a dead end.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto groaned. “I don’t want to snoop on my friend, though. It feels weird.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then I can reassign you, or you can get up and do your job.” Suou’s brows furrowed and his lips curled angrily. Makoto reeled slightly at the sight. She’d never seen Suou look this pissed off before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed, and the tension in his face vanished. “Sorry, but these kids’ lives could be on the line. You need to do this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine,” Makoto whined. Suou left the room with a soft chuckle and she got to searching.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Okumura Foods</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>&gt; Recent Acquisitions</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em></em>
  <span>&gt; &gt; Jazz Jin Cafe and Club</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bingo</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The only acquisition in the last four months for Haru’s coffee subsidiary was sitting right under Makoto’s nose. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t that the place you go everyday?” Suou asked Makoto upon hearing the news.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is. I don’t know how I didn’t notice.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suou rubbed his chin. “Have there been any new employees? With the media swarm around Okumura-san, it’s possible she’s disguised herself to avoid any unnecessary attention.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I don’t think that’s something she’d—” Makoto cut herself off when everything came crashing together. How did she not realize it all this time? The smile, the giggle, the mischievous behavior, the talk of flowers, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mako-chan</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know who it is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you know if she’s working today?” Suou asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto pulled out her phone and sent off a quick text to Lucy asking if she was working, or would be willing to meet up. “I can find out, just give me a bit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suou nodded. “I hope you’re right about this, kid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I hope I’m right too,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Makoto thought. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Makoto decided that despite the snowy Tokyo streets, her bike was the best option. A police cruiser would be too suspicious, and she didn’t want to scare Lucy—Haru, into thinking she was in trouble. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This can’t be what it seems like</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Makoto said to herself on the ride there. Her first instinct was that it was a kidnapping, or maybe even something else, but none of this made sense. Why was she tied into this? What was Makoto missing?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why didn’t Haru come to her for help?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She arrived at the agreed meeting spot in Ogikubo. Makoto paid her parking fare just in front of the ramen shop and walked inside to see Haru, brown wig and blue contacts and all, seated in a booth and staring out the window. She wasn’t smiling, in fact her expression was quite wistful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto sat down across from her. “Hello.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Mako-chan.” Of course, even in melancholy notes, Haru calling Makoto that nostalgic nickname made her heart dance just a little bit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto sighed. She wasn’t going to enjoy this conversation. “I’m not going to beat around the bush with this one. Haru, where—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The kids are safe, Makoto. I didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>kidnap </span>
  </em>
  <span>them, if that’s what you’re asking.” Haru turned her gaze to Makoto, one filled with frustration, disappointment, and fear. Makoto’s heart cracked, but she needed to know the truth, so she persisted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto didn’t break eye contact, instead placing her hands on Haru’s. “Where did you go? Why didn’t you tell anyone? What happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haru’s eyes widened slightly before returning to her somber gaze. She looked away. “Takakura-san and I went to America in May of last year. Okumura Foods was looking to branch out overseas, and he wanted me there to oversee the meeting, make sure it’s what my father would have wanted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto could tell this story wouldn’t have a happy ending. “What happened there?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There was… an accident, and I was hospitalized there for seven months.” Haru continued to stare out the window. Makoto could see a small shine appear in her eyes. “When I came back, Sugimura had bought out our company. Takakura told me that Sugimura threatened to leak that it was Takakura’s fault I got in the accident.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But that’s not true, is it?” Makoto asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course not!” Haru shouted, pulling her hands away. The small diner went quiet for a moment. Haru’s eyes were shining more, and Makoto knew what was coming next. “It wasn’t his fault, it was an </span>
  <em>
    <span>accident</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you sued him for blackmail?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haru sighed. “So I sued him for blackmail. Sugimura was furious.” A depressing laugh escaped Haru’s lips. “He also leaked awful things about me, saying I cheated on him with another woman while we were engaged, but that’s not true. All he does is </span>
  <em>
    <span>lie!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Haru thumped the table to accent her words, and a tear ran down her cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what about those kids? What’s happening with them?” Makoto needed to ensure the kids were safe, even if she felt terrible not consoling Haru.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’ve been staying with me. Their parents are cruel people, so I’ve been keeping them hidden.” Haru’s tone became bitter. “They went to the police first, but the police didn’t do anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another crack through Makoto’s heart was audible in her ears. “Is that why you didn’t trust me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haru hesitated, but surely enough, she nodded. “I couldn’t be sure you wouldn’t return them to their parents like there was nothing wrong. They’re suffering, Makoto.” More tears streamed down Haru’s face. “When they came to me, they were covered in bruises. I couldn’t sit back and do nothing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about Kanda? That’s where I saw them disappear,” Makoto asked. “What were they doing there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haru looked away again. “I can’t tell you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I just</span>
  </em>
  <span>—” She took a deep breath, and let it out. “I just can’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto grabbed Haru’s hands across the table again, holding them gently. “You can trust me, Haru. How long have we been friends?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s been almost two years since we last properly got together, I wouldn’t call that—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Haru.” Makoto put on as determined an expression as she could, hoping Haru would be able to read it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eight years,” Haru sighed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s eight years since we were fighting off shadows in an alternate dimension,” Makoto beamed. “We fought </span>
  <em>
    <span>gods</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Haru. Those bonds don’t just go away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haru’s lips formed a small smile. “I guess you’re right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just because we both got a little busy doesn’t mean that stuff just goes away. It’s still here,” Makoto pointed at her chest, “forever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I ran away from you all!” Haru’s eyes began to water more. “After that accident, I was ashamed to be seen by any of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto’s grip tightened. “Haru, it’s okay. I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haru’s eyes made contact with Makoto’s again. “Are you sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto nodded. “I’m sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haru closed her eyes. Makoto knew she was probably thinking of the best way to explain everything, so she waited patiently until Haru was ready.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re Persona users,” Haru eventually revealed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto’s hands released Haru’s as she reeled. “H-how? I thought the Metaverse—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re not exploring the Metaverse, it’s something else. It’s like this… dark mirrored version of reality.” Haru looked off to her right, recalling the place. Makoto knew she must have seen it with her own eyes, probably fighting off shadows with her niece and nephew.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that why they were in Kanda?” Makoto asked, and Haru nodded. “Why didn’t you go with them? I thought, since, y’know… you’d be fighting with them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haru opened her mouth to say something, but the words didn’t come out. Instead, she just extended her leg out to the side of the table and yanked up her jeans.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her leg was silver and covered in rivets. It went up to just past her knee before Haru’s skin became visible, and Makoto’s jaw dropped. Suddenly it made sense why this accident was so important to everything Haru was going through, why it was so dangerous that Takakura was being threatened with responsibility over it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You lost your leg in that accident, didn’t you?” Makoto asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haru nodded as she rolled her jeans back down. “It was just a car crash, but a shard of glass went through my leg, and a lot of debris ended up getting in the wound, too much to clean out. They had to amputate it, or else it could have become much much worse.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you, Haru.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haru looked up in shock. “But I—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto shook her head. “No, I should have known something was up and reached out to you, but I didn’t. I should have stayed in touch, but I didn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not your fault! You didn’t know! Nobody knew, I didn’t want anybody to see me like this!” Tears were streaming down Haru’s cheeks. Makoto slid out of her side of the booth and sat down next to Haru. “What are you—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without a word, Makoto pulled Haru into a hug. She didn’t know what to say to Haru now, but she hoped this would suffice. So much had happened in the past nine months for Haru, and Makoto knew that this is probably what she needed most. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Mako-chan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, Haru.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two stayed in that position for what felt like hours before Makoto separated and returned to her side of the table. “I do need to take you to the station for questioning. Unfortunately, this won’t suffice as questioning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haru nodded, her teary-eyed smile somehow looking as adorable as ever. “I understand.” She pulled a container from her pockets and placed it on the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haru leaned her head back and began poking at her eyes. “It’s a contact case. I won’t be needing these, right?” A moment later and she placed her blue contacts in the case, her eyes back to the deep brown they were before. Her hand goes to her hairline and removes the wig she’s wearing, as well as the cap keeping her hair in place, and stuffs it all into her bag.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There. No more hiding.” Haru’s familiar fluffy auburn hair assumes it’s natural place (after a bit of finger-brushing) framing her face nicely. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s gotten longer,” Makoto mutters. Her brain is short circuiting from seeing someone’s appearance change in the blink of an eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haru smiles. “Of course it has, Mako-chan. It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her smile. Her eyes. The dimples in her cheeks. The way her hair sits so perfectly and so fluffy. Makoto had forgotten how beautiful Haru really was. She was cute before with a wig and glasses and colored contacts, but here, now, she was— </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re still beautiful,” Makoto whispered. She didn’t know if Haru heard, but the girl opposite her just smiled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haru stood up. “Shall we get going? We wouldn’t want to miss the train back to—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually, we don’t need to catch the train.” Makoto smiled slyly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haru’s lips curled upwards in the same way. “Oh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh my god!! This is incredible!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Haru screamed, holding tight to Makoto’s waist as the motorcycle sped through highway traffic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto laughed. “I’m glad you like it!” she yelled over the sound of her engine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haru rested her head against Makoto’s shoulder, and the brunette felt her heart begin to race. Her heart fluttered in her chest and the tips of her ears ran hot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then she heard the words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were soft, probably nothing more than a whisper, but in her heart they were deafening and soul-rending. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto smiled. “Thank you, Haru,” she whispered back. She only knew Haru heard when she felt the arms around her waist tighten.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Haru brought the mug to her lips, taking a sip of kinda gross yen shop coffee. “What now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto sighed. The two had since arrived at the station, leaving Suou to handle Haru’s questioning. Haru gave Suou the same story she gave Makoto (including the parts about the Kamadas being Persona users, after Makoto’s reassurance it was okay) and Suou left the room, leaving the two alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure. Child Protective Services might take them in, but I don’t think that will be much better than their current situation.” Makoto took a sip from her own mug. “If you wanted to take over custody, you’d have to go to court for that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haru’s eyes trailed away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t want custody, do you?” Makoto asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can barely take care of my cat with my current paycheck. I don’t know if I can take care of two kids, let alone while working my day job </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>fighting Sugimura in court.” Haru sniffled and rubbed her eyes. Makoto reached across the table and took Haru’s hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto wished she could do more than hold Haru’s hand. “Do they have anywhere else to go?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um…” Haru sniffled again. “Maybe their grandparents? I haven’t spoken to my aunt in a long time, but I remember her being incredibly kind.” Haru looked up at Makoto, tears in her eyes. “I don’t want to abandon them, but I don’t want them to be stuck with their parents. What are we going to do?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haru began to cry, and Makoto moved once again to her side of the table, pulling her into a hug. “It’s okay, Haru. We’ll… We’ll get in contact with your aunt, and we’ll see if she’s a safe option for them to go to. Then we’ll go from there. Okay?” Makoto rubbed Haru’s back as the girl sobbed into Makoto’s shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haru sniffled once more. “Okay. Thank you.” The auburnette giggled. “I swear, you keep saving me whenever I’m at my lowest. It’s like fate, or something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fate, huh?” Makoto mumbled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto hoped that whatever fate had in store for them, Haru was at least happy. It didn’t matter what came next, so long as Haru was able to smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto didn’t care about anything else.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>fuck it. posting all at once.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Sakura</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Makoto realizing that she didn’t care about anything else is probably why things seemed to go so well after that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Kamada children were put in their grandmother’s care while the legal case began. Makoto called in help from her sister for that, Sae Niijima offering to act as Aimi Kamada’s attorney. The case went on all of one month before investigators, attorneys, and jurors decided on the ruling, and custody was transferred in quite possibly the cleanest trial in history. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And through that month, Haru and Makoto continued to meet up. Initially, it was for Makoto to pass along investigation details to Haru, but that slowly became casual meetups over coffee, over lunch, over dinner. It became text threads and calls late into the night. It became migraines for the both of them as they worked their day jobs after 3am calls, but Makoto nor Haru could be bothered to stop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto wanted to tell Futaba, or tell anyone else really, that Haru was safe and sound, but Haru insisted otherwise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haru wasn’t ready, and Makoto accepted that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Futaba still found out, because of course she did, but Makoto got her to keep it quiet as well.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And when custody was transferred, Makoto took Haru for drinks. They both cheered at the victory, laughed at jokes the other would crack, and Haru cried tears of vindication. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haru was happy. Makoto had done it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And now Haru was drunk and her phone was dead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Makoto didn’t know where she lived, which meant Haru would be sleeping over at her house..</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Surprise sleepover!” Haru cheered, definitely not capable of driving or even taking the subway alone as she slurred her words to the point of nearly losing their meanings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto pinched the bridge of her nose as she took in the information resting in front of her—and by resting, she meant lying face down on the table attempting not to hurl. Makoto intelligently hadn’t driven to the bar tonight, knowing fully well that she too would be too tipsy to drive a motorcycle afterwards. Thankfully trains were still running to her place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Could she even have Haru in her place?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Haru, why don’t I take you back to your place?” Makoto offered, hopeful that Haru could maybe remember where she lived. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Has Haru ever even had alcohol before? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Makoto silently pondered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haru, unfortunately giggled. “Where is that? I don’t remem—hic! Woah!” As Haru spoke, she nearly fell over, only narrowly saved by Makoto grabbing her arm and pulling her back up into her chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their faces were really, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>close. Makoto hadn’t noticed before all the little details; the freckles across Haru’s nose and cheeks, the way her eyes shone under the bar lights, her sapphire nose piercing, her chapped and nervously chewed lips. She was really, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>pretty up close.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And suddenly Haru turned very green. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit!” Makoto yelled, realizing what was about to happen. She quickly pulled Haru into the bathroom and ushered her into a stall, just barely getting her over the bowl of the toilet before she heard the sound of everything Haru had eaten in the last eight hours being ejected from her esophagus. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wugh…” Haru groaned. Makoto held her hair back as she continued to vomit into the toilet, rubbing and patting her back in an attempt to soothe the very drunk girl.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She hasn’t had alcohol before</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Makoto reasoned. After a few minutes of Haru sitting on the cold bathroom tile, hoping her stomach wouldn’t continue to invert itself, Makoto pulled her up and led her out of the bar. “Let’s get you back to my place, alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haru let out a soft affirmative groan as she was dragged along behind the detective. Makoto had half a mind to just pick her up and carry her out to the station and back to her house, but decided— actually? She decided, </span>
  <em>
    <span>screw it. She won’t remember this.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto hoisted Haru onto her back, tucking the girl’s knees under her own arms and piggy backing her to the station. Haru had no complaints, in fact she quietly cheered for the free ride. She wasn’t even that heavy, Makoto noted. Or maybe Makoto had gotten stronger since joining the police force.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She could feel the cold metal of Haru’s prosthetic leg bouncing against her thigh, leading her to wonder if this was even good for the prosthetic. It was entirely possible this could mess something up, and she didn’t want to risk breaking the thing, so she put Haru down only to pick her up a moment later, one arm under her legs and the other supporting her back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto was carrying her current crush, bridal style. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She flushed when Haru pressed her face into the crook of Makoto’s neck, definitely falling asleep there. She tried not to hit Haru’s legs or head on the train doors as she entered the empty car, and again as she existed. She also tried not to hit Haru against her own apartment door frame, but to less success. Thankfully, though, Haru still slept like a baby.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto lowered the girl into her own bed and went to tuck her in before Haru opened her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“M-Mako-chan?” she mumbled sleepily. There was still a slur to her voice, the effects of the liquor not having worn off yet, and her eyes were fairly lidded, meaning she was likely still barely conscious. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Haru?” Makoto answered sweetly. It seems her inebriation hadn’t worn off yet, either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly Makoto was pulled down into the bed, Haru sleepily yanking her by the wrist. Before Makoto even realized what was happening, she was on her back and Haru’s arms were wrapped around her.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Haru’s still really strong</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Makoto thought to herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(She tried not to think about the times after they’d first met when their classes would share PE. She tried not to remember how muscular Haru was back then, and how much Makoto absolutely lost her mind over it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, her attempts were not successful.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You smell nice,” Haru told her as she pressed her face into the crook of Makoto’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto had no response other than vague blithers, her heart rate skyrocketing and butterflies taking flight in her lungs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haru opened her eyes again and looked up at Makoto. Makoto did not see this, as she was too busy staring at the ceiling trying to calm her gay heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mako-chan?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?” Makoto responded, unmoving. She didn’t want to look at—or so much as imagine—the look in Haru’s eyes right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you,” she whispered. Makoto felt a soft press of lips against her cheek, felt Haru shift around to be more comfortable, felt the smaller girl’s arm rest across her stomach, felt herself be pulled closer. “You’re always there to save me, Mako-chan. You’re my…” Haru interrupted herself with a yawn. “You’re like my Prince Charming.” Haru squirmed slightly. “Maybe that’s why I fell in love with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Makoto could even ask any questions, she heard Haru begin to snore. She wanted clarification, answers, proof that this wasn’t a dream. She pinched her leg, but she was still awake. She was tempted to pinch Haru to wake her back up, but that would definitely be a bad idea. She just wanted to know, for certain, that what Haru had said was true.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The beating of her heart in her chest felt like a thrum against glass. It hurt, but it was going to hurt more when Makoto woke up the next morning, when Haru didn’t remember saying anything, when all of it turned out to be false. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She rolled onto her side and pulled Haru closer, holding her tight. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hopefully</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m wrong about this. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Makoto woke up alone in her bed. A low ache ran through her mind, a hangover from the previous night. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wasn’t there someone else…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She heard the sound of retching coming from her bathroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There she is.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto pulled herself—still in her jeans and t-shirt from the previous night—out of the bed and wandered into the bathroom to find Haru leaning back against the bathtub. She looked… awful, to say the least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look awful,” Makoto said at least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haru didn’t respond, only flipping Makoto off as she wiped her chin with the back of her hand. “How much did I drink last night?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto reached for her phone to check the bill she’d paid the previous night. “Well, it looks like I bought you at least 7,500 yen worth of booze, so… at least two thirds of that is you,” Makoto affirmed with a smirk. It was a little sick, but she quite enjoyed seeing Haru like this. So long had Haru always been composed, clean, dignified and it made her feel untouchable, like she was royalty to Makoto’s commoner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But here, slumped on the bathroom floor, her hair a complete disaster, she felt real. She felt like someone that Makoto didn’t have to reach for, she felt like they were on the same level for once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Of course, Makoto was proud of Haru for being able to achieve everything she had, but it was nice to feel like Haru was still a person just like Makoto behind all of it.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit, I’m sorry,” Haru groaned. She leaned her head back against the bathtub, a resounding thump filling the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto laughed. “That’s the first time I think I’ve ever heard you swear, Haru.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After helping Haru get herself cleaned up so she could shower, Makoto went into the kitchen to make some breakfast. Luckily, Makoto didn’t work today, so it was safe for her to lounge and do as she pleased. Of course, there was the initial panic when Makoto saw the time before she remembered it was Saturday, but it quickly dissipated. Now, the only sounds were of Makoto humming along to the sizzling of eggs and pancakes on the stove.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How is your shower so nice, Mako-chan?” Haru’s sweet, still kind of grizzly and sleepy voice filled Makoto’s heart as the girl came into the kitchen. She was wearing one of Makoto’s oversized Featherman t-shirts she’d gotten from Futaba a few Christmases ago, paired with some short shorts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto chuckled. “I pay a hundred-thousand a month for this place. The showers better be good.” Makoto leaned against the counter as the food continued to bake on the low heat of the stove. She eyed Haru up and down, the domesticism of everything making her heart feel like it was made of cotton. Her eyes stuck to Haru’s legs, the long scar across her shin and the shiny steel of the automail captivating her for a reason she didn’t know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It didn’t hurt,” Haru said, interrupting Makoto’s train of thought. Makoto blinked and looked back up to see Haru’s soft smile. “Paramedics told me that I was knocked unconscious before I lost the leg, so by the time I woke up, it was already amputated.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto pressed her hands together. “Does it still… you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haru sighed. “Yeah, sometimes, but only really during the colder seasons.” She sat down at the breakfast bar and began to massage her thigh. “There’s supposedly a way around it, but I’m not sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That thing’s super experimental, isn’t it? How did you even afford it?” Technology had come a long way in eight years, to the point of being able to create a simulated limb and nerve system. It was rare, and incredibly expensive, but from what Makoto had heard it was supposed to be almost like the real thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just… made of steel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haru looked away. “I… I didn’t, really.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you…” Makoto didn’t even want to ask. She already was fairly certain of the answer herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sugimura-san paid for it. He’s holding that over President Takakura-san, that’s why Okumura Foods was sold.” Haru’s eyes lidded, and her jaw clenched. Makoto wanted to say something, but knew Haru probably needed this. “He… that </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking bastard</span>
  </em>
  <span> went behind my back just to… to… to be a </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking thief.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Her tone was biting, a quiet yell, and her eyes began to water. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto pulled the finished breakfast off of the burner before walking around the counter to embrace Haru. It was a quiet moment as Haru cried into Makoto’s shoulder. Neither of them said anything, just holding each other. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re like my Prince Charming…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The memory came back to her as she pulled away to plate the food. She tried to push it down, rationalizing it as drunk talk while she plated the food, but the words wouldn’t stay away.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe that’s why I fell in love with you…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto found herself blushing. Haru looked across the counter at her as they ate, making light conversation with her old friend, but Makoto found herself zoning out. All she could think about was what Haru had said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All she could think about… was Haru.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mako-chan? Are you even lis—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you mean what you said?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haru raised an eyebrow. “Wh-what did I say? About the pancakes? Because, yeah, they’re delicious—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Makoto interrupted. “Last night, I mean.” She balled her hands into fists, trying to cool her heart down just a little bit. She could feel it pounding in her chest, ready to leap into her throat and suffocate her on the spot. She didn’t even know what answer she was looking for, whether Haru had actually been in love with her or not, but she couldn’t deal with not having an answer at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was a detective, after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Last night?” Haru laughed nervously, “What did I say last night?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto watched Haru’s expression, hoping her guest would remember on her own. Unfortunately, it began to seem like she wouldn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Great.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto sighed. She didn’t know if she was even really emotionally prepared for this kind of confrontation, but she was already this deep. She pondered if she even wanted to have this conversation, if the answers were really worth the awkwardness that would cloud their friendship. After all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto felt the same way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And yet, the question seemed out of reach. Makoto couldn’t bring herself to ask it. No matter how much she wanted to know, how much she wanted to hear Haru say those words again, the risk was too high. She’d spent almost eight years learning about risk assessment, she wasn’t going to unlearn that skill here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so she chickened out. “Y’know what? Nevermind, it was nothing. I think I was just—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mako-chan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto looked back up at Haru to see her face bright pink. Her shoulders were tense, she pressed her fingers together nervously, her eyes wouldn’t make contact, and it was adorable and hard to look away from.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did I call you… prince charming?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything in Makoto’s head began to spiral. Clarity was gone, long forgotten, and she could no longer read Haru’s expressions. Whether Haru was nervous because it was true, because it was false, or even if she was nervous at all, all of it was a blur to the detective. Nothing made sense anymore. Still, Makoto was an absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>abysmal </span>
  </em>
  <span>liar, so she took a breath and resigned herself to the truth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haru hopped from her chair, her feet landing softly on the tile. “And… you want to know if… it was true?” She slowly approached Makoto, coming around the counter. Her face shifted from a pink to an almost worrying red.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto couldn’t even say anything. She just froze there, her jaw sewn shut by threads of nervousness. All she could do was nod slightly and hope Haru could register the movements. Her eyes closed, nerves and embarrassment and domestic fear pulling her body in on itself; tensing her shoulders, clasping her hands at her sides, straightening her legs, ducking her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wh-why do you want to know? A-are you going to make fun of me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh fuck.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>As though a switch had been flipped, everything in Makoto relaxed. Her brain was still going a thousand kilometers a second, but her arms and legs detensed and she looked up to see Haru. Crying. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh god</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “N-no! No I would never! Haru, I…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But her tongue betrayed her. She knew now, knew exactly what was the truth, but for whatever reason she couldn’t find the words she needed. They were simple, words she’d said countless times in her life, but here, she couldn’t find them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So she chose the next best thing: she leaned forwards and kissed Haru. It was a split second decision, and one Makoto chastised herself for (she hated cliches) but everything suddenly aligned. It felt like something the world had been building up to, right out of a soppy romcom you’d find on late night television, but the feeling of Haru relaxing into her touch, putting her hands on Makoto’s cheeks, lifting herself up on her toes, it was all so immensely satisfying that she let herself be a cliche for just one moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the moment she pulled away, Makoto started to laugh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wh-what’s so funny?” Haru whined. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto, barely able to catch her breath, answered, “Haru, did you forget that I’m gay? Why—  Why would I make fun of you for that?” She continued to giggle, but the shorter girl just scowled up at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Makoto did not take this opportunity to say it was actually the most adorable thing she’s ever seen.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“W-well, last night was a lot, okay?!” she yelled. Makoto still thought it was cute. “I’m kind of having a hangover, so I forgot!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And yet, Haru could not help herself from joining in on the giggles. As if to rival the pure release of sexual tension from moments prior, the atmosphere shifted from red to pink; yearning to lighthearted fun. They felt like kids again; like they were still sneaking onto the roof for Makoto to smoke cigarettes while Haru tended to her crops. It felt like they were back in the Leblanc Attic playing Tycoon and getting their asses handed to them by Akira and Futaba. It felt familiar, like no time at all had passed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And when they hugged, when they kissed again, when they finished their breakfast and said their goodbyes for the day only to text each other the entire rest of the day, when they stayed up until terribly late hours on the phone in bed, that teenage whimsy of first loves and first kisses never faded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But, like all things, winter turned to spring, and the feeling faded little by little. Of course, they were still absolutely in love with each other, but things slowly became more domestic. Their affection grew, matured, became calmer but still just as visceral. Instead of Makoto’s heart racing every time she saw Haru smile, it skipped a few beats. It was softer, quieter, peaceful and relaxing, but still just as real.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And spring turned to summer, they moved in together. Haru’s civil lawsuit made it through and Sugimura paid out damages to Okumura Foods. Makoto stayed a detective, but she began to rise in reputation. She joked about it before, but she slowly became known as the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Third Detective Prince </span>
  </em>
  <span>in precincts and even around the city. Haru and Makoto celebrated these events, milestones in their ever growing lives, with dinner over drinks. Haru had decided she didn’t need alcohol to have a good time anymore, so it stayed quiet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Every once in a while though, Makoto would hear talk on the street of kids going down alleys only to disappear. She silently wished the new persona users luck.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Summer turned to fall. Haru opened a coffee shop where Leblanc once stood, separate from Okumura Foods and Black Star Coffee. She teamed up with Sojiro and Akira to run the place, and Makoto would be lying if she said it wasn’t nice to see Akira again. A few tears were shed as old memories came rushing back. For the first time in almost three years, the Phantom Thieves had a reunion— a </span>
  <em>
    <span>proper </span>
  </em>
  <span>reunion. Makoto earned a few hugs from old friends, more tears were shed, and she couldn’t feel happier. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(She walked home that night with Haru feeling nothing short of amazing.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fall turned to winter. A major blizzard hit Japan, locking Haru and Makoto in their apartment for multiple days. Makoto trekked out into the well over five feet of snow when they inevitably needed groceries, and ended up having to be nursed back to health by her lovely girlfriend. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No regrets</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she thought as Haru did literally everything for her. They celebrated a quiet Christmas and New Years, reminiscing on the red skyline nine years ago when they literally killed a god. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And winter, as it will always do, turned to spring, and Makoto and Haru celebrated their one year anniversary.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somehow, during the most well known season in all of Japan, Inokashira Park managed to be borderline empty. Sakura blossoms lightly rained down, reflecting the sun’s rays and making for an absolutely gorgeous scene. Makoto took more than a few photos of Haru, her pink dress and white sun hat blending perfectly with the falling petals. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto Niijima, just as much as she was one year ago, was completely and utterly in love with Haru Okumura.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know,” Haru said. Makoto looked over at her girlfriend, her hat having since been discarded and sitting on the bench next to her, allowing for a much clearer view of her beautiful face. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this calm with anybody.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” Makoto answered. She brushed a lock of faded auburn hair from Haru’s face, losing herself in Haru’s beautiful freckles, her rich coffee-bean brown eyes, everything about her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, everyone I’ve dated in the past has been super… </span>
  <em>
    <span>intense</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” she replied as her face morphed into disgust. “But with you, I just feel… relaxed. I feel safe, not like I’m on some heart-stopping adventure, but…” Haru laced her fingers into Makoto’s. “Like we’re all we need.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto looked down at her beautiful girlfriend. Had she a ring in her pocket, she might have actually gotten down on one knee (and risked dirtying her very expensive trousers), pulled the ring from her vest, and asked Haru to marry her at that moment. Instead, a soft kiss sufficed. People were walking quietly through the park, but neither of them had a care in the world who saw them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Thankfully nobody who did see them seemed to mind, which made things nice.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto pulled back away. “Haru.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mako-chan,” Haru replied, a sweet lilt to her voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto pressed a kiss to Haru’s forehead. “I love you so much, you know that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haru looked up at her girlfriend and smiled. “I love you too, you dork.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Under the sakura blossoms, Haru leaned over onto Makoto’s shoulder and watched the river. Ducks skated across the water, butterflies and hummingbirds fluttered through the air, and the sunset cast a beautiful pink reflection across the small stream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And with Haru by her side, simple things like this were enough.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Long final chapter but that's okay!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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